


A Face In The Crowd

by Sunshine_Magnet



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 16 days of hell, Big Payno, F/M, I saw those vines, LIAMFUCKINGPAYNE, Little Black Dress, WWAT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 15:39:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1610366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshine_Magnet/pseuds/Sunshine_Magnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam Payne tries so hard to be good. He's not the wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am type of guy - and never with his fans.... Well, except for maybe just this one time.</p>
<p>Also known as: the time we saw Liam gyrate all over South America and had to write about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Face In The Crowd

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by all the fucking antics South America gave us. The walking hip-thrust. The drunken selfies. Everything LIAM FUCKING PAYNE did over the 16 day and 97 year long SA tour.

They have been on tour for exactly six months, and the end is in sight - only a handful of shows left to go. It's warm and muggy tonight, a wall of heat from more than just the lights hitting Liam as soon as he takes the stage. Halfway through the second song of the night, he sees her. It's fitting that the song is Little Black Dress. She's watching him with lust filled eyes, her bottom lip captured by her teeth. Her hips, wrapped in a tight, strapless, black dress, are swirling as she dances to the beat, singing along with their song. Her blonde hair is twisted into a loose braid. A few tendrils curl around her face, having floated loose with her movements.

There are girls like her in every crowd, and he's seen them almost every night for the last six months. But this one? She's hypnotic. He watches her skin flush, either from the heat or her excitement, or maybe a combination of both, he's not sure. During the chorus, the lads walk the catwalk, each hitting different marks and singing to the crowd. 

He sings to her and makes sure she knows it, doing a little point and nod when she realizes he is, in fact, looking straight at her. He smirks before making his way toward the end of the stage, wondering - no, knowing - the extra swag in his step is just for her benefit.

Harry notices him noticing her. It makes him curious. Liam’s not usually one to single any girl out. So. He watches her. He sees her grab her friend's arm, squeezing hard. Their seats are prime third row, situated in the corner where the walkway meets the stage. As Liam moves further down the walk, hips swaying, Harry surveys the scene with a smirk, wondering if Liam is finally going to break his self-imposed no-fan-one-night-stand rule.

Oblivious to it all, she looks at her friend, fanning her face, trying to cool the blush that colors her cheeks. "Did you see that?! He totally eye-fucked me!" Her voice is high-pitched even to her own ears, but she can't help it. She giggles nervously.

Her friend nearly cackles, sipping on her beer. "Oh my God, he totally did!" She's not at all surprised. These girls are two of a kind - when they set their minds to something, they are quite resourceful in getting what they want. Her friend has had her sights set on Liam for a couple of years now, even during that unfortunate buzzed-head stage; she wonders if tonight's the night she'll go one step further than being just a fan.

The girls squeal and turn back to the show, dancing, singing, generally having the time of their lives. It's the first night of the Charlotte double header. They hit the jackpot on their hotel choice, arriving that morning to find at least one hundred girls camped on the sidewalk outside, holding a sing-a-long. They checked in, upgrading to a suite, and lounged around the pool. She kept an eye on every possible ticket site, looking for any good seats. It's unusual for them to make plans without really making plans, but the concert had sold out in seconds. They'd decided to try their luck, and what amazing luck they'd had, their seats popping up on her fourth refresh of the ticketmaster resale site.

Every time Liam dances to their side of the stage, he watches her. His eyes refuse to look away. Her blue eyes pull him in like a magnet. It takes everything in him not to ask a member of his team to get her number. He'll store the image of her lithe body moving to his music, her red lips forming the words of his lyrics, in his head to pull out later, when he's alone in his hotel room - after the after party at the hotel bar. He nearly grimaces at the thought. It's going to hurt to wait. He silently thanks God the sleeves of the flannel tied around his waist conceal his burgeoning hard-on.

Harry smirks when he sees Liam not so subtly adjust himself before the Questions segment. "Good show, huh?"

Liam looks at Harry, wide-eyed, caught. He shrugs. "Of course."

Harry looks to the girls in the third row, both of them staring right back at him appreciatively. He smiles, waves with his fingers and leans into Liam. "She's cute. Not your usual type. Did you get Paddy to-"

Liam laughs, keeping one ear on Louis who is chatting with the crowd and one ear on Harry. "Nah."

Harry watches the girls whisper to each other, their eyes still locked on him and Liam. "Are you going to? Tour's almost over. You can have a little fun, you know. Wouldn't kill you," he snorts, waving to the girls again and flashing his dimpled smile before joining Louis and the others center stage.

Maybe it wouldn't kill him to have a little fun with the blonde in the black dress, but it's just not his thing, the random after-show hook-up. He'd rather keep her as a fantasy and make her do all of the things he'd never admit to liking in his head. He pulls himself away to the center of the stage, his dick hard and his stomach in a knot.

Two hours later, the girls sit at the hotel bar, sipping drinks, laughing about all the eye contact and flirting they'd received from all five of the lads, and even some attention from the band (and they still swear one of the security guards was checking them out). The bartender glances at the clock, then looks to the entrance. "Ladies, I'm afraid we have a private party starting right about now. I'm going to have to close out your tab."

A deep, smooth, British voice sounds right behind them. "That's not necessary. They can stay. And I'll cover the tab." The girls look up, not immediately recognizing the man standing next to them as the band's tour manager, Paul. "They're guests of the band." He nods to the girls. "Ladies, enjoy."

Liam walks through the entrance of the bar and sees her immediately, her bare shoulders exposed to him, her blonde hair slung over her shoulder just as it was during the show. His dick twitches. He’s not sure he has the strength to deny himself. He lets out a groan, causing Harry to look at him questioningly. "Alright, mate?"

Liam gestures to the two females perched at the bar, giggling. Harry chuckles at Liam's current state - he looks wound up tight. "Ah. Those the two pieces from the show, yeah?" Harry almost feels sorry for him.

Liam doesn't answer, but nods slightly before walking to stand behind the blonde. Just as she did, unknowingly, during the show, she's pulled him to her again with some unexplained, invisible gravitational force Liam is helpless to ignore. 

She feels him close in; feels the electricity in the air crackle. She swivels to look at him, mouth falling open. "Well, hello," she whispers, as if she's been sitting on this exact stool waiting for this moment all night. And maybe she has been; she'd hoped the band would make an appearance, as they frequently seemed to do after shows during the tour. Harry leans against the bar beside her friend, the brunette, taking her attention.

Liam takes a breath, trying to tamp down the urge to pull her out of the bar, up to his room, to fuck her until she screams his name. "I..." he clears his throat, "I noticed you at the show." He slides onto the stool next to her, angling his body towards her, sliding his arm onto the bar and leaning on it. "Did you enjoy it?" He watches her through roaming, heavy-lidded eyes, noticing her bright statement necklace teasing him from its resting spot just above her breasts. 

She crosses her legs, subtly squeezing her thighs, her panties already soaked from all the attention at the show. She's afraid she might be soaking through her dress at this point. Liam is looking at her like he wants to devour her. God help her, she hopes he does. Her eyes are glued to his lush, pink lips, rimmed by softly curling facial hair, asking her a question. She tears her eyes away, realizing she needs to answer him. "Hmm, very much," her voice sounding husky to her own ears. "Probably the best we've seen yet."

She looks him over, from his freshly washed, damp hair combed back from his forehead, to his strong shoulders framed by a white wife-beater, down to muscular thighs encased in tight, well worn blue jeans. The bulge behind his fly seems to swell at her perusal. Her pink tongue darts out, licking her lips.

He's still stuck on her tits- no, that's rude. He fingers her necklace, knuckles brushing soft, bare skin. He sees a shiver move through her. "Does this stand for something? Or just something pretty, like you?" He really needs to get a drink and leave.

She giggles, fingers brushing his as she reaches for the neon yellow and pink baubles she’d impulsively added for color. "Just something pretty, I guess," she blushes. His skin is hot against hers. 

Liam nods, his mind finally made up. His dick has won. He’ll salve his conscience tomorrow. He stands, pressing his thighs into her knees, and reaches back to pull out his wallet. "I'm going to close out the tab, and you're going to come with me."

Her eyebrows shoot to her hairline, but she nods anyway. How could she not? It's like a fanfic come to life. She's so wet, her thighs slip as she uncrosses them to stand. She turns, tapping her friend on the shoulder, drawing her attention away from Harry. "I'm, uh..." she gestures to Liam, waiting for the bartender to return his card. "I'm going, um. Yeah."

Liam smirks, watching her awkwardly stammer to her friend and grabs her hand, pressing a key card into her palm. He leans into her ear, the unmistakable scent of honeysuckle invading his senses. "Room 1415. Wait a couple of minutes before you come up. We don't need to be seen together." 

She clutches the plastic key in her hand and watches him walk out, his pants sagging, his red boxer briefs peeking out between his waistband and shirt hem. She leans back against the bar, sipping her drink, trying to steady herself, praying the liquor does it's job. 

"You sure about this?" Her friend asks, mildly concerned, but in awe of her friend's current predicament.

She emits a very un-ladylike snort. "Absolutely not, but I don't think I can say no." She glances at her watch, straightening. Gulping down the last of her drink, and finishing what's left of her friend's, she tugs on her dress, smoothing out invisible wrinkles, and walks out, across the lobby to the elevators. She takes pause when camera lights flash behind her, voices clamoring for her attention then stalling when they realize she's just a hotel guest. Her hands shake as she enters an elevator, pressing the button for the fourteenth floor. Leaning against the wall, she takes a deep breath, and another, fidgeting with the braid cascading over her shoulder.

The doors whoosh open with a soft ding, and before she has time to change her mind, she steps into the corridor. She counts her steps, pausing momentarily to reapply her lip gloss before continuing forward, finding his room and sliding the plastic key into the door's lock.

It opens from the inside, startling her. Liam waits impatiently on the other side. He grabs her wrist, tugging her roughly into the room. She stumbles crossing the threshold, only to be steadied as Liam presses her into the closed door. "I was going to imagine peeling you out of this dress tonight." His lips crash into hers, his tongue pushing between her lips with force. She opens to him with a moan, her tongue sliding against his, her legs spreading as he pushes the hot, hard bulge behind his jeans into her aching center. 

"Now you don't have to," she whispers, grinding her hips into his, one hand grabbing at his waist, holding him in place. "What else was I going to do in your imagination?" She's absolutely intoxicated, by the liquor, by the heat, by _him._

His hands skim up her thighs, thumbs sliding under the hem of her dress, pushing it up over her hips to her waist. He mouths down her neck, nips across her collarbone, licks down her chest, to latch onto a nipple over her dress. The hard nubs strain against the stretchy material. Her fingers comb through his hair, dislodging the neatly combed quiff.

He lowers himself to his knees, groaning at the sight of her sheer red thong. He grips her thighs, pressing his nose into her center, breathing deeply. "You smell so sweet, better than I could have imagined." He opens his mouth, alternately sliding his wide tongue over her and sucking the scrap of material into his mouth. He growls, "Did I do this to you? Was it me onstage that made you so wet?"

She whimpers, nodding, the sensations between her thighs building into a dull ache. Her hips roll, searching for something, anything to ease her. Glancing down, she sees chocolate eyes looking up at her, his damp hair curling over his forehead, his mouth sucking on her clit through the barely-there fabric covering it.

"I didn't hear you. I want to hear you say it. Is this..." his tongue pushes into her, "because of me?"

Her mouth opens around a whine. " _Yes,_ God, _yes, Liam."_ Her fingers twitch in his hair, warmth spreading under her skin, electric.

Liam leans back with a smirk, her hips following in protest, chasing. The large hands gripping her thighs slide around to cup her ass, fingers hooking into the scrap of a waistband. He nips at her thigh, running his tongue over her clit, then, scraping his teeth down her belly, from navel to thong, pulls them down.

She leans back into the door, her head thumping against it. Her palms press into the wall, her hips into his mouth. She feels his beard tickling her thighs and her clit when he bites down her stomach, the faint stimulation intensifying a craving growing stronger by the second. 

A hand tugs on her foot, lifting, guiding her to step out of her panties. She feels a light breath blow over her swollen lips as Liam lifts her leg, hand behind her knee, opening her wide. She braces herself against the door with one hand, the other reaching and threading into his hair, cupping his head.

Liam licks over her with his tongue flattened, almost slurping, her pussy dripping for him. His tongue fucks into her, licking up, in and out, circling her entrance, again and again. He looks up at her. "Do you want to come? Maybe if you ask me nicely and say my name, I’ll let you come."

She groans as her clit throbs, begging for attention. The ache inside her is nearly unbearable. She's teetering at the edge, his pause stopping her fall. She pants, whimpers, begs, " _Liam,_ dammit, make me come."

He leans in, rubs his beard against her clit. "That wasn't very nice at all," he tsk's.

"Now. _Please,"_ she all but growls, eyes squeezed shut, a pained look on her face.

Liam grins devilishly and slips one, two, three, _Oh God,_ four fingers inside, stretching her, filling her, thumb sliding over her clit, pressing, tongue working the sensitive skin around it. As soon as those fingers rub over that spot inside, she breaks. Her walls clamp down on his fingers, pulling them in, pulses squeezing, her come coating his fingers and dripping down his hand. 

Liam lowers her leg gently, feeling the muscles trembling in her thigh. She slides down the door, landing on her knees, her legs unable to hold her. He stares into her eyes, drowning in a sea of blue, bringing his dripping fingers to his mouth, sucking each one clean, starting with his pinky. He traces his wet index finger around her lips, coating them with her own juice before sucking it into his mouth. He cups her jaws, tilting her head, taking her lips to lap them clean. "That was delicious. Now. I want you to suck my cock before I make you scream my name."

Liam leans back on his hands, biceps bulging, tattoos standing out on his forearms. She rests on her hands, leaning forward between his legs, arching her back, pushing her breasts out, her movements feline. She drags her still covered, still sensitive nipples along his torso, to latch onto his mouth. The taste of herself lingers, the realization making her squeeze her thighs, the ache already building again. "Liam, would you finish peeling me out of my dress?"

He leers at her, his expression dark, the lust in his eyes unmistakable. "I plan to uncover those tits. They've been taunting me all night. But not yet. Right now..." his hips lift, grinding his very hard, very clothed dick into her stomach. "Right now, I want to feel your mouth around me, and you naked would distract me from that." He lifts a hand, cupping her breast, pinching a nipple.

She arches into the touch, moaning, before moving back. "Can you take your shirt off, then? Let me see...." she trails off as he whips the tank off. His abs are tight, the skin stretched taut over rippling muscles, sprinkled with dark hair, a thin trail leading into his pants. She sucks a nipple into her mouth, nipping, licking, teasing it into a hard pebble. He gasps. She grins against his chest, kissing over to give attention to the opposite nipple. 

Her right hand moves to cup him over his jeans. His hips twitch at the contact. She fumbles with his button before popping it free and tugging the zipper down, little by little. She slips a hand into the opening of his boxers, pulling his dick free. Oh, she thinks numbly. No wonder he used four fingers. The whole ten inch rumor is close to correct. She's not so sure anybody has realized the girth that goes along with it. Shit.

She looks up, along Liam's torso, suddenly a little nervous. She grips him, pumping slowly. He watches her, breathing deeply, evenly, his whole body rigid with control. Her thumb traces his slit as she bends down, opening her mouth to take him in. As soon as her lips close around him, he groans, long and guttural. The sound bolsters her courage. She decides immediately she wants to hear more of it.

Liam leans back onto his elbows, bracing his feet against the wall, his thighs falling open, allowing her room to suck him down. He feels himself hit the back of her throat, her wet mouth warm around his aching cock. A spurt of precome trickles down her throat. His hips buck when she swallows around him, his control slipping. "I need you to not do that again. I'm not planning to come anytime soon," he grits out.

She slurps up, sucking shallowly on the head of his cock, over and over, licking the rigid vein just below, her hand sliding up and down his length, her grip loose. A smirk appears, "How many licks would it take to get to the center of Liam Payne's cock?" She takes him back down slowly, relaxing her throat.

Liam's bark of laughter quickly turns to another deep groan when his cock pushes into her throat. She's doing her best to take him all the way down. "Ok, ok," Liam grunts, grabbing her hair and pulling her off.

Her red, swollen lips are too much for him to resist. He pulls her forward, fusing his lips to hers, then pushes her back into the door. His hands skim her thighs, over her hips, to her waist. He traces his fingers up her rib cage, and cups her arms at the bend, bringing them up over her head.

His hands drop immediately to tug at the dress still bunched at her waist. He pulls it up slowly, watching her breasts as they're freed from the constricting material. They're perfect. He can't wait to finish undressing her. Liam cups them, squeezing them together, leaning in to swipe his tongue across both nipples. 

She clenches her hands over her head, whimpering. "Liam, please, I need to feel you." She's desperate to feel his chest against hers, skin on skin, her nipples tightening almost painfully. The ache between her legs throbs at the thought of his dick sliding into her, filling her. 

Liam pulls her dress off, slingshotting it across the room. He quickly stands, his cock bobbing at the sudden movement. She reaches out to tug his pants and boxers down. She fumbles, trying to untie his boots, fingers slipping before she finally helps him pull them off, followed by his pants and socks. 

When she makes a move to toe her heels off, Liam stops her. "Hell no. Leave them on." He holds his hands out, taking hers, pulling her up. She wobbles a bit on legs that are still a little unsteady. He wraps his arms around her, turning her away from the door, pulling her in for a heated kiss. His hands slide down, cupping her ass. He grips her tightly, lifting her up, her legs automatically hooking around his back. He lowers her until she feels the head of his cock pressing against her wet entrance. He holds her steady, not pushing in, looking in her eyes. 

She squirms, trying to make him move, the slight pressure of his cock teasing her, tormenting her. "Liam...." she pants.

"Be still.... I told you I don't plan to come soon." His arms hold her in place effortlessly. "Are you dripping again?" She nods, her jiggling breasts stealing his attention. "Are you ready for me?" She nods again, more vigorously, his eyes still on her breasts. "I'm going to make you scream my name. More than once."

Her breathing has grown heavier, her chest heaving, every deep, butter smooth word caressing her like a soft touch. Every nerve in her body is extra sensitive.

Liam can feel a warm drop rolling down his dick, and decides he's teased her long enough. He lowers her onto his cock, hips rocking forward into her. Her head falls back, her body almost boneless, except for the fingers digging nails into his shoulders. He grips her waist, lifting her off his cock, then lowers her, filling her, walking toward the bed. His hips rock into hers with each step. She's so warm, so wet, so silky and tight, he's afraid he's not going to last as long as he wants to. He tells her so, the words punctuated by grunts.

She grinds her hips down as best she can every time he lowers her. His knees hit the bed, his arms move to her waist, allowing her to roll her hips against his, his dick barely moving inside her. He rocks his hips, pumping shallowly into her, their movements in sync. She feels full. Her hips circle, her clit sliding against him, the bundle of nerves nearly screaming. Whimpers escape, growing louder with each thrust, with each press of her clit against him.

Her hips move faster; she bounces, her thighs squeezing his hips, trying to find leverage to ride him. One of his hands moves to her nipple, rolling it between thumb and finger, pinching sharply. She screams his name as she breaks, wave after wave of orgasm rolling through her.

Liam groans when he feels the first pulse squeeze his cock. He immediately pulls her into his chest, squeezing her, holding her still, concentrating on riding out the contractions trying to milk his own orgasm out. He grunts on each exhale, straining against the almost unbearable need to spill into her.

When she's spent, he finally moves again. He kneels on the bed and lowers her. Her arms spread across the duvet. She tries to unwrap her legs, but he won't allow it. Her back is arched, only her head and shoulders actually resting on the bed.

He tightens his hold under her thighs, keeping himself seated inside. He notices her hair has worked loose, the braid leaving her hair in soft waves, fanning out behind her head. He starts to move, pulling out slowly. His hips roll as he pushes back in, stretching her, filling her, over and over.

She feels overly sensitive, every nerve on the edge of unraveling; Liam's slow movements, the shallow thrusts coupled with the pressure on her clit are bringing the ache back to life. Her fists grasp at the silk duvet. She watches Liam as he moves, the muscles in his arms straining as he holds her, his head thrown back, the veins in his neck standing out. "Liam," she whispers. 

The faint sound of his name brings his head up. His eyes find hers, seeing desperation shining. "Fuck me, Liam. _I need you to fuck me."_

He growls- actually growls. His grip doesn't loosen, but he pushes her further up the bed allowing him to lean forward into her. Her legs finally unwrap from his hips and she brings her heels down to the bed beside his hips - which have barely paused their shallow thrusts through the position change. He has not let up on his assault on her pussy. 

"You want me to fuck you?" Liam pants. "You want me to pound into you, fast and hard?" 

She reaches and grips the back of his head, pulling his face to hers. She lifts her head to lick the shell of his ear. "Fuck me, Liam Payne. Make me scream again." She tweaks his nipples, sending a jolt straight to his dick. 

Her legs fall open, wide. He rests on his elbows, his movements picking up speed. His hips slam into hers, the noises of skin slapping skin, of Liam's thick cock fucking into her drenched core, along with his grunts and her mewls, fill the room.

Liam growls at her each time his hips slam against hers. "Say my name. Say it. God, _say my fucking name."_

The desperation in his voice ramps up her own. Her hips lift off the bed to meet his. She may be bruised in a bit, but she's oblivious. Her head thrashes, tangling her hair. He threads his fingers into hers, bringing them up above her head.

She digs her heels in, her legs splayed wide, giving no thought to stilettos digging into silk. Her hips lift off the bed, pushing into his. Every slap of his hips puts pressure on her clit. Every stroke of his cock, in, out, hits every nerve lining the walls of her pussy. She feels herself nearing the edge. The room fades to black as her eyes squeeze shut, her release just a millimeter out of reach. "Oh, God, Liam, _harder_ please, so, close, _please, Liam!"_ Her pitch gets higher with each word.

Liam pushes up to his hands, hooking an arm under her knee, lifting her leg, changing the angle just enough. A white-hot explosion rocks through her. "Fuck yes, _Liam, fuck,"_ she screams, loud and long, his name drawn out with far more syllables than needed.

He drops her leg, bracing himself on his hands and pounds into her, unable to stop, unable to control his tempo, her slippery heat and tight muscles sending him into a frenzy. She lifts her hips, meeting each slam of his through the haze of her orgasm, knowing she won't feel complete until he breaks. "Liam," she pants, moans, "Liam, babe, let go, _fill me up."_

Her words set him off. His back curls, his head bowing over her chest; a guttural and hoarse _"fuuuuuuuck"_ rips from him as he pumps into her, allowing her fading pulses to milk him dry.

Liam collapses on top of her, breathing hard. "You screamed my name. Twice." He mumbles into her neck.

He sounds proud of himself, she thinks with a satisfied smile. Her fingers trail over his back, tracing random patterns on his sweat-slick skin. "I did. I couldn't help it," she purrs in his ear. Her voice is still raspy, sexy. She likes it.

He rolls off her, onto his side, watching her chest rise and fall, her breathing slowly evening out. "Will you stay? Would your friend mind?" He likes to cuddle. It’s been months since he’s had someone to hold through the night.

There's a vulnerable note to his voice, she notices, shifting to her side to face him. "I don't think she will. I can send her a text. Are you sure? I've been known to steal the covers," she teases, an unusual feeling of insecurity hiding behind her tone.

"Text your friend. Stay." A thought occurs to him. "But tell me your name first?"


End file.
